Forty-Eight Years Without a Name: The Lady of the Dunes

2026-08-28 · Des personnes sans nom · 7 min de lecture

The dunes east of Race Point hide things by nature. They shift, they swallow footprints within hours, and in high summer the scrub pines and beach grass close over the hollows between them so completely that a person walking twenty metres away would see nothing. On the afternoon of 26 July 1974, a twelve-year-old girl out walking her dog about a mile east of the Race Point Ranger Station, at the far tip of Cape Cod, came upon something in one of those hollows. It was a woman, lying face down on a beach blanket.

She had been dead for weeks. Her auburn hair was pulled back into a ponytail and held with an elastic band flecked with gold. Her toenails were painted pink. Her head rested on a folded pair of jeans. In the sand nearby were two sets of footprints and tyre tracks, which told investigators that she had almost certainly not arrived at that spot on her own.

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